The Last Petal: The 60th Hunger Games
by betttyy
Summary: The fairy tale is over for Annabella Moreau. Being the daughter of President Astor Moreau used to be enchanting but with the upcoming Hunger games and twenty four new tributes, he is spiraling towards disaster, she only has a short amount of time to change his heart. Who will get their happily ever after and who will the story end for? What will happen before the last petal falls?
1. Once Upon a Time

**Annabella Moreau, 19**

 **Daughter of the president.**

I used to always say that Fairytales were God's gift to little girls. Everything about them was so enchanting and intriguing. Ball gowns, dancing, laughter, pure joy, true love and happy endings are something that every small child longs to have. The funny thing about fairy tales, though, is that they have a way of coming true. If you're lucky, you'll get one straight from a storybook. If you're me, you'll get one where a happy ending seems impossible.

Every night, before she put me to sleep, my mother and I would cuddle up in my bed and read the stories of princesses in far away places. They were beautiful but more importantly, they were happy. I remember running my fingers lightly over the glossy pages and closing my eyes. I would wish with my whole entire heart to have a life like that. My mother, of course, was quick to reassure me that I would _always_ be her and my dad's princess, no matter how old I got.

I was only eight years old when she got sick. It started out slow, but eventually, she wasn't able to get out of bed and I had to wear a mask to go in her room and visit her. She would always try and make a joke and tell me that every princess loses their mother, but if that was true, I didn't want to be a princess anymore. My father and I Were in her room for countless hours every single day until the day she left us.

I sat in my room reading all of the old picture books that we used to read together, leaving stains in the shape of teardrops on every page. Happiness always came for these princesses after they met Prince Charming, but I was nowhere near old enough to meet mine and since my father had such an important job, I never saw him. He slowly turned into a mean and terrible man right in front of my eyes.

I filled the void of basically becoming an instant orphan with the people from town. As I got older, I started appreciating the different ways people lived their lives. I was curious about the reasons behind people's smile wrinkles, the worn out skin on their hands and the reasons for the sadness that was so permanently etched into their eyes. I spent most of my days in town, conversing with people and listening. I slowly started to realize that every single person I had come across had their very own picture book in the form of their life and I wanted to read them all.

After a long day in town, conversing with the people, I wanted to go speak to my dad. Although, trying to do so it quite the task.

" _Knock knock,"_ I sing-song, as I tap on the door.

"Who the hell is it? Don't you people know that I am trying to run an entire damn people are absolute peasants, I should just let them all burn!" His voice booms out of the wooden doors.

"It's Anna, papa," I whisper quietly.

"Why didn't you just say that?" He asks, his voice becoming instantly more gentle.

"You didn't give me the chance," I tease, giving him the look that he knows to mean to calm down. "I know you have been stressed lately, so I brought you lunch and some flowers," I smile.

"I am not a thirteen-year-old girl, Anna. I don't need flowers. What is for lunch?" he snaps.

"Shrimp Fettuccine, papa," I say quietly, sliding it towards him. "What are you doing, papa?" I ask him, looking at all the papers he has spread out in front of him.

"The reapings are soon. I am sick and tired of the filthy rodents that some would call citizens of Panem. They can never just accept the things that come their way. This year's Hunger games is going to show them, I can promise you that," he says, his face reddening with every word uttered.

"You shouldn't talk about people that way, papa," I tell him. "Besides, you're the President of Panem, you could just do away with them. They serve no purpose. It's just plain cruel," I say, furrowing my brow and crossing my arms.

"This is why I don't discuss these things with you, you are simply a little girl. Life isn't a fairytale, Annabella. Leave my presence this instant," he growls, shoving a spoonful of fettuccine into his mouth.

"I'm just going to start killing everyone," I hear him whisper to his assistant as I close the door.

I let loose the pile of light brown hair from the top of my head, it hits the small of my back before taking its normal shape. I remove my earrings, slip out of my blue dress and into my favorite pair of yellow sweat pants.

I walk over to the dresser and reach for the bottom drawer, where I store my most prized possessions and pull out my old favorite picture book. I move the canopy that drapes over my bed out of the way and sit down to read it. The smooth pages bring me comfort that nothing else can but the tear stains remind me of something that is all too real.

Fairytales are full of great things, they are beautifully crafted stories of love and light. However, every fairy tale has a villain. I pull the colorful book toward my chest and tears stream down my face as I realize that in my fairy tale, the villain lives downstairs in an office eating shrimp fettuccine.

I fall asleep cradling the book, and dream about happy endings.

* * *

 **Astor Moreau, 56**

 **President Of Panem**

"You don't think that might be a little much?"My assistant, Karen asks me, with her squinty bug-like face all shriveled up in concern.

"Listen, Karen. I have given these peasants chance after chance and every damned time, they screw it up. They always want more," I tell her, shoving dry pasta into my mouth.

"Not everyone can of such high class," she says, sarcastically.

"If you would like to make jokes Karen, I can gladly demote you to the presidential jester. You're already quite foolish, It might be the perfect fit," I stroke my beard and watch her squirm uncomfortably in her seat. It brings much pleasure to see people squirming at my expense.

"With all due respect Sir, all I was trying to say is that a basic arena seems to do the trick. We mustn't do anything extra gruesome to teach the people of Panem a lesson. They haven't rebelled in quite some time, sir," she says, nervously playing with her blonde hair.

"Listen closely, you cow. I am in charge, and what I say, goes. These people are on the verge of a rebellion and the way I handle that would be greatly frowned upon. These fools should consider themselves lucky that only twenty-four children get the brunt of this," I scowl.

I slam my feet down on my desk and lean back in the office chair.

"Well, what were you thinking?" She asks me, slowly standing and getting a notepad ready.

"Blood, fire, screams of children, money," I tell her. "Violence sells," I smirk.

"You are a sick man," she tells me, throwing down her pen and paper down on my desk and walking out.

"Don't you dare leave! Get back in here this instant," I scream after her but she doesn't return.

Rage fills my body, my blood boils and I can't control it. I grab the vase of roses sitting on the edge of my desk and throw it at the wall. The sound of the glass shattering impact is deafening. Rose petals fall from thin air, creating a blood like an effect on my white rug.

"How fitting, let the games begin."

 **Hi! :) Welcome to the prologue of my SYOT, the one that I will actually be finishing. (Too soon?)**

 **I know that this one was short, but I have three more prologues planned for while I am waiting on submissions. I am so excited about everything that I have planned for this story and I hope that you all will give me another chance to prove that I can finish another one.**

 **There will be rules and a form on my profile. Please feel free to send me a tribute as I would like to get started on this one as soon as possible. :)**

 **Happily ever after,**

 **Jenna**


	2. Crushed Petals

**Lacey Billings, 46**

 **Head Gamemaker**

"I am merely making suggestions, I am trusting that you will put my plans into action in the best way possible," President Moreau says, taking a puff of his cigar and blowing it straight up in the air.

"Well, I certainly think that the ideas you have shared are brilliant," I say, biting the cap of my pen.

"I want people to take my presidency seriously, they need to know I will not tolerate any misbehavior and what better way to show them than broadcasted on television screens all over the country," a sinister smile creeps across his face.

"With all due respect, Mr. President, I don't believe that anyone is taking your presidency lightly. However, you know that I have grown to love the changes that you have put into place since you were elected," I tell him, hoping to keep the eye of the hurricane that is his anger off of me.

Before I was promoted to Head Gamemaker, I was just a housekeeper. Mr. Moreau was busy in the office and Mrs. Elena Moreau was an attentive and loving mother, always playing with Annabella so she hardly had time to keep up with the household chores. Every evening, when President Moreau was done with his daily duties, he would walk straight into Annabella's room and kiss his daughter and his wife. They would spend the evening together, full of laughter and love.

Astor was quite a devoted father and he looked at his daughter like there was nothing in the whole universe that could be better than her. She had the man wrapped around her "Poppy pink" polished little fingers.

It was storming something fierce on the night that Mrs. Elena took her last breath. The thunder was loud and the house was quiet except for the sobs of little Annabella. Lightning struck and she was gone, and so was he. It was as if the storm blew away the Astor Moreau that everyone knew and loved and brought in someone completely different. We lost our beloved president the same night that we lost Mrs. Elena.

As Annabella grew, she craved the love that her father was no longer able to give her. Every day she would try something new appease him and every day she would get shot down. Her gestures of kindness seemed to make his rage grow. Eventually, Annabella started disappearing. She would leave at the crack of dawn and come back as the sun was setting. No one knew where she was off too, but she looked happy so I dare not ask. The first thing she would do when she arrived back home, was set a single rose outside of her father's office just to let him know she still cared.

That brings us to today. Mr. Moreau has never been filled with so much rage and little Miss Annabella has never looked quite defeated.

"Are you listening to me, Lacey? I simply don't have time for your little games today. Listen, hear what I am saying and write it down on that notepad of yours. You love the Hunger games, now is the time to prove it!" His voice booms through the office and I can't help but shiver.

He's not wrong, I think the Hunger Games are important. They remind the people of boundaries and so far, it has been very successful. There is a point, though, where a line is crossed. They are children after all. His plans, cross all of them.

I am about to respond when there is a knock at the door.

"I am busy, go away!" Mr. Moreau, growls.

"Papa, please let me come in, it's been awhile since we've talked." Annabella's sweet voice replaces his rough one.

"Just for a moment sir, we have time," I tell him.

"Enter," he says, annoyance evident in his voice.

She enters and sets a rose on his desk.

"Enough with the flowers, Anna. I'm serious," he scowls.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to spend some time together after you are done working tonight, papa," she says, hope filling her blue eyes.

"Do you not understand anything? I have a damn country to run Annabella! When are you going to grow up? You simply don't understand reality," he shouts.

"Please don't scream at me, papa. It was just a question," she says, backing away. I cross my arms and bite my tongue. I want to say something but I need to keep my job.

"It was a stupid question, just like the rest of the ones you ask. Leave Annabella!" He picks up the rose that she had set on his desk and crushes the delicate petals beneath his fingers.

Annabella runs out with tears streaming down her face.

Maybe one day the president that we used to know and love will emerge again, but right now we are in the midst of a beast.

* * *

 **Annabella Moreau, 19**

 **Daughter of the President**

"He used to be my hero, you know," I say, running my fingers over a golden frame holding a picture of my father cradling me in my arms. "I looked at him like he put the stars in the sky," I say, trying my hardest not to let my chin quiver.

"I know babe, I wish that I could do something to fix it," Adam says. He looks uneasy as the words leave his lips. His perfectly constructed eyebrows crinkle up and his eyes get hard.

"I do too. You have no idea how it feels to have a father just completely change on you. To have him once look at you like you were the best thing that ever happened to him and then one day, speak to you like you were a mistake. I try so hard to make him happy, but he picks apart everything that I do," I tell Adam.

I stand from the bed, leaving wrinkles in the royal purple comforter and walk to my dresser to place the frame back from where I got it. A few moments after I put it back in its rightful place, Adam comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waste. He places his chin on my shoulder and kisses my neck, leaving me with goosebumps all over.

"Are you okay?"

I turn around so that my eyes are staring into his and wrap my arms around his neck.

"I will be, eventually. The way he treats me just makes me feel invisible and unwanted," I whisper.

"Trust me, Bella, there is no way in hell that anyone would ever not want you," he smiles and places a quick kiss on my forehead. "You're the most amazing person that I have ever met."

Adam is my happy place. Every fairytale has a prince, but I'm convinced that I have the best one. We've only been dating for two years but with everything going on in the Presidential mansion, he quickly became my safe haven. When my father starts acting beastly, he reassures me that everything will be okay and reminds me that I am loved.

"I don't know about all that," I wink.

"Well, you told me that you needed to talk to me, here I am. Shoot," he says, patting the space next to him on my black bean bag.

"I've been thinking lately, and I just can't carry on sitting around my while my dad terrorizes the country," I say, twirling my hair around my fingers.

"Bella, what is going on in that brain of yours, it's beginning to frighten me," he says, reaching out and tucking a strand of my hair between my ear.

"Adam, people are scared of me because they assume I am just like my father. It breaks my heart, I've traveled all over the country getting to know these people and their stories and they don't deserve to be treated like the dirt on the bottom of his expensive shoes."

"He is your dad, but he is also the president," he says.

"I know, but I have to do something, He can't keep doing this to people," I whine.

"Trust me, there is nothing that I'd like more than to punch that douche canoe in the throat but I think it's best to just stay out of his way," he gets up and paces the length of my gold and purple room.

"Oh trust me, I will be out of his way. He won't even know it's me," I rise from the bean bag and walk over to my closet, pulling down a box. I return the bean bag and toss the lid aside, I pull out a black wig with bangs, dark red lipstick, sunglasses that will make me look like a water bug and face powder that is three shades to light for my face. "See," I smirk.

"Oh come on, babe. What are you going to do with those? The reapings are in two days, there isn't anything we can do to stop them," he says, looking at me like I have lost my mind.

"I know we can't stop this one, but the victor of the 60th Hunger Games will go down in history because they are going to be the last one," I say, putting the sunglasses on my face.

"How do you suppose you are going to do that?" He inquires.

"I'm going to lead a rebellion."

 **Hi. :)**

 **I am going to be posting the rest of the prologues this week while I am waiting for submissions to roll in. I will have a finalized list on my profile when all the spots needed have been submitted to. There is also a list on my profile right now showing which spots have and have not been submitted to.**

 **I am really excited about this story and the tributes that I have received so far are great, so please keep them coming.**

 **Lastly, I will be doing a blog when I have all the submissions so that you can get a better idea of not only what the tributes look like but these characters as well.**

 **What did you think so far?**

 **Happily ever after,**

 **Jenna**


	3. Let's get to work

**Astor Moreau, 56**

 **President of Panem**

"What the hell do you mean she isn't in her room?" I scream at the blonde imbecile standing in front of me.

"I mean, that Annabella isn't in her room Sir. I literally mean exactly what I just said," she replies quickly, looking very unamused with the situation at hand.

"Is that an attitude Lacey? I would highly suggest you shove it back into wherever you pulled it out from. It is only your job on the line," I spit.

Who does this bimbo think she is? For as long as I've known her, she's been quiet and has just done what she is told. All of a sudden, she decided to catch an attitude? She must have forgotten who she is dealing with. It will be my greatest pleasure to remind her.

"Sir, there are only so many places that a nearly twenty-year-old woman can fit. I'm sure that I've looked everywhere and twice too," she replied, setting her clipboard down on the white upholstered chair that sits in front of my desk.

"Lacey, one more smart-ass response and I swear on everything that I have worked my ass off for that I will put you back out on the streets where you came from and I will laugh while doing so. Knock it off," I growl.

She bites her bottom lip and sits down, tucking one foot behind the other and smoothing her hair.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President but with all due respect I would like to say something," she says, looking me straight in the eyes.

"Is this going to come from your mouth or are you going to pull it from your ass?" I ask her, sitting back down in my red velvet chair and lighting a cigar.

Lacey rolls her eyes and stands up. She acts like being close to me is unsettling. How pathetic.

"Annabella is always gone around this time, I don't think you have anything to be concerned about Mr. President. She will likely return when the sun is just about to set, a rose in hand," She tells me, speaking more gently when Annabella's name is mentioned.

"How the hell do you know that and where does she go?" I shout, standing from my chair.

"Sir, I know that because I pay attention to her," she says, nervously.

First, she is going to catch an attitude and then she is going to lecture me about my parenting skills. I have had enough of this. Lacey Billings is done for.

"You obviously don't pay good enough attention to her if you don't know where she is right now Lacey!" The echo of my voice against the glass walls is deafening but it reminds me that I am in power, and it brings me great joy.

"Wherever she goes, when she comes back, she is happy. She has a glow all over her face, Mr. President. You know the look, Mrs. Elena had the same look in her eyes every time she saw you," a slight smile creeps across her face as if this is a fond memory for her.

"Don't you ever speak of her again, you cow! Get out of my office this very moment!" I rise from my desk, throw open the door and push her out, throwing her clipboard after her. I slam the heavy wooden door, sending an echo throughout the entire foyer.

"Sir," A whimpering Lacey pleads from outside.

I'm getting sick of that noise, if this isn't the best arena Panem has ever seen, I will have executed.

I rush back over to my desk and throw open the top drawer until my fingers find the familiar edges of a picture frame that holds a picture of my late wife. I run my fingers over it. She was so beautiful, so full of joy. When she left me, all of the joy did too. Rage fills my body and I take the frame and throw it against the wall, sending pieces of glass flying. My screams fill the room and everything goes blurry.

I am going to make the people of Panem feel the same thing I feel every single day, mark my words.

* * *

 **Annabella Moreau, 19**

 **Daughter of the President**

"Why isn't your disguise on, babe?" Adam asks, walking slowly behind me to the train station. I turn around and giggle at his fake beard, and thick rimmed glasses.

"Take that off, we don't need them right now," I tell him, gently pulling the beard off his face. He winces as some of his real facial hair gets stuck in the tape. "I'll tell you when."

"I love you so much, but I have to say, I think you most definitely put on your psycho pants this week," he jokes.

I turn around and stick out my tongue at him playfully as we board the train again.

"I'm not crazy, Adam. I'm just tired of being treated like I don't matter. I feel like my father looks at me and sees inadequacy. I'm adequate Adam, I matter," I tell him. My heart feels heavier and heavier with each word that I utter.

In my perfect fairy-tale life, my dad would be my best friend. He would tell me every single day just how much he loved me and when I had a problem, he would be the first one to jump and try to solve it. He would be the one that helped me fight all the beasts that life threw my way. Instead, Adam took up that job when it was never his responsibility, to begin with and in my case, the beast that life has thrown my way helped in creating me.

"Of course, you matter Annabella. You don't need to go out and do something crazy to prove that," he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me back into his arms. He spins me around and kisses me. I kiss him back and unwind myself from his grip.

"I'm not just doing this for me, babe. I'm doing it for the people of Panem. Contrary to what my father believes. Love is free. Kindness is free. People shouldn't have to be living in fear because the person who is in charge of protecting them is out to do harm," I say, tears welling in my eyes.

"You have such a big heart, Annabella. It's one of the things that I love the most about you, but babe, this isn't your job. You don't have to fix the mess that your father is creating. You are not your father, and people know that. Anyone with eyes can see that," she says, pulling me in again. I put my hands on his cheeks and close my eyes.

"Adam, I love you and I appreciate that you are trying to be the voice of reason right now, but this is something that you won't talk me out of. You are either in it with me, or you aren't. I'll love you just the same," I tell him, smiling.

He takes a minute, staring at me long and hard and my heart stops because as much as I like to think that I could do this on my own, having him beside me would make things so much easier.

"I'm in," he finally says, snatching the beard from my hand and sticking it back to his face.

"Perfect timing," I tell him, pulling my big floppy hat over my head and putting on my sunglasses.

The train doors open, letting us out in the poorest area of district eleven. There are carts of fruits and vegetables being loaded onto the train to be shipped to the Capital. People are working non-stop and they don't look happy. That is one of the main things that I want to change.

We walk through the district hand in hand. Adam strokes his fake beard as he takes in the small, cramped and falling apart houses that some of these people need to live in to survive. His mouth is agape as he sees some of these conditions for the first time.

"Do you see why I want to do something?" I nudge him.

"Absolutely, babe." he whispers.

After walking for awhile, we come to a house that seems to be falling apart from the outside in. The tin roof is crooked and all of the windows are broken in. I knock on the door and bite my perfectly polished nails as we wait for an answer.

The couple that has been so gracious in letting me tell them my plans opens the door, with warm smiles.

"Adam, this is Mr. And Mrs. Bonham," I say.

"Welcome Annabella, we've been expecting you. Let's get to work."

 **Hey there! :)**

 **Here is the second to last prologue before we hopefully get started with the reapings. I know this one was shorter but I hope it was full of information and sparked an interest. :) I have such fun plans for this story.**

 **If you are reading and thinking about submitting, please send someone in. I have 9 spots left open and I am wanting to start the reapings soon! :) Tell your friends! Haha**

 **What did you think about this?**

 **Predictions?**

 **Happily ever after,**

 **Jenna**


	4. Be Our Guest

**Hi! The final list will be posted at the bottom of the chapter. If I didn't pick your tribute it's nothing personal at all, I got more submissions than I thought that I was going to get. I'm excited to get started with the reapings. This is the last time we will hear from Annabella for a bit, so buckle up. :P haha**

* * *

 **Annabella Moreau, 19**

 **Daughter of the President**

 _Mr. President,_

 _I'm sorry, dad. A girl can only take the feeling of being invisible for too long. I used to think that it would hurt less if you had just died too. At least then I would be able to miss you and have it be normal. I miss you every day and you are in the same house as me. If you had died too, I could at least pretend that you still loved me. You are very much alive and you prove to me every day just how much that you have forgotten how to love. I think in some ways, I broke my own heart. I fall in love with every pretty thing, whether it be a flower on the side of the road, or a butterfly flying over my head. I open myself up to people who don't care much for what is in my best interest. It's sad that I consider my dad one of those people. You see dad, I have this idea that love is love. Love is soft, Love is gentle and pure isn't it? Why would you want to deprive yourself of that feeling? Somewhere along the way, every ounce of love that you had left in your body disappeared and I get the short end of the stick every single time. I speak on behalf of all of the people in Panem when I say that our country is lacking love, something that it so desperately needs. By the time you're reading this letter, it will be too late. Something had to be done, dad. Don't forget that I love you though. Sometimes love hurts, but you should know all about that.  
_

 _I'm sorry, stay safe out there._

 _Annabella._

"Babe, you've been writing that letter for awhile now. The best thing to do is just seal it and pretend it's already sent. There is no use in reading it over and over again," Adam comes and wraps his arms around my waist. I close my eyes and breathe in the musky scent of his cologne.

"I know, it just hurts to think about him. I don't want him to be hurt, but at the same time, he is the one that is hurting so many innocent people every year," I tell him, frowning at the thought.

"Well babe, a rebellion isn't exactly going to tickle his fancy," Adam says, chuckling and pulling me in tighter.

A knock on the door causes Adam to let go of me abruptly. I giggle as he sits down innocently on the bed.

"We don't mean to barge in, but we do have an important matter to discuss," Mr. Bonham enters the room first, his wife following closely behind.

"Words can't express how thankful we are that someone is actually stepping up to help us execute these plans," Mrs. Bonham says sweetly, fidgeting with a stack of paper that she is holding. "The people were starting to lose hope," the sweet look of light in her eyes goes out, revealing one of hurt.

"How many people are we talking here?" Adam asks, picking at his fingernails.

"Right now, we have over two hundred and fifty people willing to participate in overthrowing the Capital, but they are afraid. They want to make sure that we have a leader who is firm and has an in with the president," Mr. Bonham starts.

"Well, the president in my dad, so I guess that is where I come in," I say.

"I wouldn't exactly say that you are firm through babe, you are a people pleaser and-" I throw my hand over Adam's mouth and flick him on the forehead.

"I can do this, I promise," I say.

"We believe in you, Annabella. We've been watching you for years now when you come to the district for a visit and if anyone can pull this off it's you. People tend to underestimate the people with pure hearts, but they also tend to be the most fierce warriors," she says, rubbing my back.

"So where do we start?" Adam asks, looking around the room.

"We gather our people, we tell them the plans and what he hope to see. I will tell everyone what changes I hope will come from this rebellion and then as Mr. Bonham said, the planning stages will take days, " I say, nervously.

" In exactly one week, we go," Mr. Bonham says firmly.

He hands me and Adam each a stack of paper. I flip through the smooth white pages and my heart starts beating fast. My eyes skim across phrases like " Overthrow the Capital" and "Raid the presidential mansion."

My phone buzzes in my pocket, distracting me from the serious matter in front of me. I quietly exit the room while Adam talks with Mr. and Mrs. Bonham.

 _Did you make it safely?_

 _xx-Lacey_

I smile while responding to her text. My life has been full of changes but one thing that has remained constant is Lacey and the love that she has always poured out so generously.

 _I'm safe. I miss you already._

 _Xoxo- Annabella_

Just as I am about to shove my phone into my pocket and go re-join the conversations, my phone dings again.

 _Don't worry, I'll be meeting up with you before you know it._

 _So proud of you, Belle._

 _Xx- Lacey_

* * *

 **I'm still so in love with the ideas that I have for this story and I am so excited to finally get going. Expect the first reaping chapter in the next week. As I said earlier, if I didn't select your tribute, please don't take it personally. I got so many amazing tributes and I just want to say thank you to everyone that took the time to submit. You all make me super happy. I also should be done with the blog by tomorrow night.**

 **Predictions?**

 **Thoughts?**

 **Happily Ever After,**

 **Jenna**

District One Female: **Eden Marcellus, 18**

District One Male: **Augustus Macura, 18**

District Two Female: **Romania Smythe, 18**

District Two Male: **Imperium Stone, 18**

District Three Female: **Cala Trydan, 15**

District Three Male: **Ichabod Newton, 12**

District 4 Female: **Nerissa Lune Bay, 17**

District 4 Male: **Chase Anderson, 17**

District 5 Female: **Zea Duit, 14**

District 5 male: **Caleb Ascher, 15**

District 6 female: **Caddie Dopple, 16**

District 6 male: **Cason Thessel, 18**

District 7 female: **Amber Arbor, 18**

District 7 male: **Lennox Monroe, 13**

District 8 female: **Voile Rollag, 14**

District 8 male: **Weft Bobbin, 16**

District 9 female: **Amari Maize, 13**

District 9 male: **Astro Thales, 13**

District 10 female: **Vivian Galloway, 17**

District 10 male: **Levi Mccormick, 18**

District 11 female: **Dahlia Zinfandel, 16**

District 11 male: **Sebastian Jardetsky, 17**

District 12 Female: **Emory Curtis, 16**

District 12 Male: **Jack Krause, 17**


	5. District One Reapings

**Eden Marcellus,18**

 **District One Female**

* * *

"Eden, Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" Morris asks me, pulling away from a kiss.

"It's not you, it's me," I tell him, flipping my blonde hair over my shoulder and straightening my pleated black skirt.

"Oh please, Eden. I've heard that one before," he says.

"I think you should leave now, I have to go train," I say, pulling my hair into a ponytail and tapping my finger on my wrist.

"You know Eden, you are just like they say. I won't stick up for you anymore," he gets up off my bed and quickly makes his way across the room, slamming my door in the process.

It's not like I don't hear what people in the district say about me, I hear it loud and clear and I choose to let it go in one ear and out the other. They see a girl who is so obsessed with training that she doesn't care about anything or anyone else. I personally don't see what is so wrong with that. Training, after all, is the most important thing in my life.

I slide into my black yoga pants that sport a white sparkly band and throw a mint green tank top over my head. I grab my training bag off of the carefully placed hook on the wall that gives me quick access to it whenever I want it and head downstairs.

"Good morning, Eden!" My father shouts from the kitchen. "Sit down, you need to eat a good lunch if you are going to kick ass at the academy today," he says, setting down a plate with a heaping pile of egg whites and spinach on top of an English muffin in front of me.

"Dad, do you think it would be okay if I went to training by myself today?" I ask hopefully.

"Not a chance, kiddo. It's important to me that they are training you in the right way, to win," he says, shoving a forkful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth.

I quickly shove the egg white into my mouth, rolling my eyes every time that my father looks in my direction.

"Slow down there, kiddo. You're going to choke," he says, holding back a chuckle.

"Well dad, we are wasting precious time. Let's go. I told you that eventually, all those carbs were going to make you start slowing down," I say, eyeing him up and down.

"Whatever, let's roll," he says, grabbing five water bottles for when I am done training.

The feeling that I get when I walk into the training academy is only what I can imagine royalty feels like. People stop what they are doing, drop their gloves and move away from the station that I am headed to. It's like they know that when I enter the academy, all the chances that they had, are tossed out the window. I basically have to beg people to practice with me.

I've put my whole life into this training. I stand firmly behind the belief that from the moment a person is a born, they have a destiny. Winning the Hunger Games has been and always will be mine. I refuse to be a dreamer when being all is takes to become an achiever is a little hard work here and there.

Anyone who has been successful in their life has had to make sacrifices, just ask President Moreau. For me personally, it was my social life. The people who once called me their friend didn't like the fact that I was good at something, and that it took my attention away from them. Because of this, training and my dad are all that I really have.

"Okay people, I can't practice with myself, someone come fight me!" I shout, standing in the middle of the arena. I spin in a circle trying to make eye contact with at least one worthy contender but every person that I look at avoids eye contact.

"Put your gloves on, Marcellus," a feminine voice says from the other side of the ring.

I would know that voice anywhere, Raegan Miller. If there was anyone else in the district that had even the slightest chance to beat me, it would be her.

"Why do you want to hurt yourself?" I smirk, slipping on my white boxing gloves.

"Okay girls, on the count of three!" The head trainer, yells. "One. Two… Three!"

Raegan doesn't waste any time and charges at me full force. I throw my left arm up to block her blow, but she surprises me with a right hook and hits me square in the face.

 _She hit you. You're such a failure. Don't let that happen again._

I shake the thoughts of failure out of my head and bring my knee into her stomach. She falls to her knees but the brief moment of satisfaction quickly disappears when I go down with her. She rolls on top of me and holds my arms down with one hand and continually hits me in the face with her other hand.

 _Dad is going to hate you, he is going to be so disappointed. Get up, now!_

I look over at my dad and see him shaking his head, confirming my worst fears.

 _You were never going to win, you can't do anything right, Eden. Why are you embarrassing yourself?_

"Eden, get up, fight back! What the hell are you doing?" My dad screams from the sidelines.

Hearing my dad's voice helps me to muster up every last bit of confidence and strength that I have in my body and get up.

I roll out from under her and pull her up by her long blonde braid. My left knee goes into her stomach and my left hand into her jaw.

She cradles her jaw in her hand and starts to get back up. She is running at me, but she is getting blurry.

I get in the best defensive position and brace myself, but everything goes black and I hit the cold, hard floor.

* * *

 **Augustus Macura, 18**

 **District One Male**

* * *

"How are you holding up out there, sweetie?" My mother asks, placing her hands on the glass that is separating us. The look she has on her face pleads me to place mine where hers are.

"I'm doing just fine, mom." I smile at her and place my hands on the glass for her sake.

"I'm so glad to hear that baby. I don't have much to do in here but regret my decisions and think about you," she says, with a smile on her face.

"Hopefully, you won't have to do that for much longer," I say, looking down at the clock. With each tick of the little hand, my time with my parents grows shorter. We still have fifteen minutes, but my dad is nowhere to be seen.

"Don't get yourself in trouble, my love. We will do our time," she says, a defeated look in her eyes.

"No mama, mark my words, I'll get you out of here," I tell her, looking around at all the other people visiting with their loved ones. I can't help but smile. A place that should be filled with so much disappointment and regret gets filled with love twice a month on visiting days. The people in here need that, they are human after all. I've always enjoyed the simple pleasures in life, I guess you could say I'm just a laid-back dude.

I don't want to get my parents out of here because they don't deserve to be in here. They deserve to be in here but they are still my parents and I need them out there. Panem isn't exactly the coziest place to live.

"Well, I appreciate you taking time out of your training to come visit me, I know it keeps you busy," the light returns to her eyes when she talks about my hobbies. She always tells me that she lives vicariously through me while she's locked up, so I try and make the most out of my life.

A peacekeeper rushes in with a look of annoyance very prevalent on his face.

"Agustus Macura, Your phone is going off in the locker and it's making and awful ruckus. Wrap it up," he slams the door on his way out of the visiting center.

I turn and look at my mom but she just nods.

"Honey, go. Don't worry about it, we'll be here next month. It's not exactly like we can go anywhere," she winks.

"I'm so sorry mom. Tell dad I said hey," I stand up from the cold metal stool and blow a kiss to my mom. She catches it and puts it in her pocket just like she always does.

"Don't let that shit happen again," the Peace Keeper says, handing me my phone, which is still ringing off the hook.

I open one of the fifty- three text messages.

 _I need you, Gus! It's urgent._

 _XX- Kayva._

My heart drops. Kayva is my ride or die. She has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. In the midst of all the chaos at home, she was there.

Without thinking, I take off running. I look down all of the side streets and alleyways, but she is nowhere to be found. I am about to give up, after ringing her bell over a hundred times when I hear muffled noises coming from the tall pine tree in her front yard.

"What the hell are you doing up there?" I scream at her, suppressing a fit of laughter.

"I told Raegan Miller that she looked like an un-pedicured foot," she says, looking down. "They tied me up and taped me to the tree trunk," she says rolling her eyes and trying to wriggle free from the tape.

"I don't even think I want to help you down now," I say, falling to the ground in laughter. "How dumb can you be Kay?" I ask her.

"Seriously Augustus, I hate you," she says, laughing. "Get me down, _now,"_

With a sigh, I climb up the tree and start pulling the tape off of the mahogany bark. Kayva wriggles free and falls to the ground with a thump.

"She is a wretched human being," she says, dusting the grass off of her black dress.

"You totally asked for that one, Kay," I tell her.

"How was visiting your mom? I'm so sorry to pull you away early, but I couldn't breathe," she giggles.

"Don't mention it, you would have done the same thing for me," I smile.

I know it's cliche, but my philosophy in life is to treat people the way you want to be treated. It will seriously lessen the drama in your life. Life is a beautiful place, and not everyone is out to get you. You just need to do your part.

"Well, let's get to your house and clean for the week, I haven't been over in a while and since you don't exactly have supervision right now, I think it's best that we grab some masks on the way over," she jokes.

I push her into the bushes that line the sidewalk and we continue walking.

"Do you have training tonight?" She asks me.

"Unfortunately, yes," I say with a heavy sigh.

"You know, you don't have to do this for them, " she says with a sympathetic smile.

"Oh, but I do. It's the only way," I say.

Five years ago, my life was completely different. Growing up, I had everything that I ever wanted. The best toys, clothes, shoes and the best parents. They had always worked so hard to make sure that I had a happy childhood. They would come home from work with stacks and stacks of money. Everyone here is rich though, so I thought nothing of it. Until one day, the Peacekeepers came knocking on our door. They were accusing my parents of being part of a criminal ring of sniping. That basically means they were out stealing things all day and the selling them for a much higher price.

My whole life, my parents raised me right. They taught me right from wrong and made sure I knew never to lie, cheat or steal. In that moment, I was furious with them, they were hypocrites and they needed to pay for what they did.

I led the peacekeepers to the safe where they kept everything and the rest is history.

My parents don't blame me for what happened because I didn't know, I did what I was raised to do and they were proud of me for it. I have felt bad ever since that day though.

Training has become part of my everyday life, not because I like fighting, in fact, I despise it. But because I know that the power that comes with winning the hunger games will be enough to get my parents out of jail debt free.

I will get them out, I will win.

* * *

 **Eden Marcellus, 18**

 **District One Female**

* * *

"Eden, Are you okay?" My dad's voice causes my eyes to flutter open.

"Wh-What happened?" I ask him, holding my head as I sit up.

"You fainted, Eden," my dad says firmly.

Suddenly, everything starts coming back to me. Raegan was coming for me and I panicked. I didn't want to disappoint my dad. He wants me to win these games so badly and I don't know what to do. My body just gave up on me.

"I'm so sorry, dad. I don't know what happened," I say, bracing myself for his response.

"You have been training hard Eden, You don't need to apologize for fainting. What you need to be apologizing for is not taking care of yourself," my dad pulls me into a hug. "What happened out there kiddo?"

"I didn't want to fail and I felt like I was letting you down. I was letting her get hits in," I stammer, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"The only way you will let me down is if you stop trying. You can win this Eden, you just need to believe in yourself," my dad says.

"Dad, what if I can't though?" I ask, tears filling my eyes to the brim.

"You have to!" My dad's voice booms. He looks surprised at his sudden outburst and collects himself before speaking again.

"You've worked so hard, Eden. It would be such a waste to give up now," he says, looking at me with pleading eyes.

I sigh and close my eyes. I need to remind myself why I started training in the first place.

My dad lost his brother to the hunger games. Ever since he has been revenge-hungry towards the capital. He wants someone with the same blood as his brother to win the whole thing. I have been in training ever since I was old enough to hold a dagger without being in danger of stabbing myself.

My dad would push and push for me to be the best, but I never was. I never wanted to be the best either. I just wanted to be good enough to get out there and win the whole thing but what meant even more to me than that was the approval of the one remaining parent that I had.

My mom couldn't stand to watch her only child grow up that way, so she bailed. I haven't heard from her since and while my dad thinks that I am doing this to avenge his brother, I am doing it for myself. I want to prove to my flakey mother, that she should have stayed.

"Get back out there and try one more time before the reapings, kiddo," my dad nudges my arm.

"Alight dad," I say, with a confident smile.

I may not win the Hunger games, it might not bring my mom back, and it definitely won't bring my dad's brother back, but it will show that all of my training and sacrifices were not in vain and I need that more than anything.

* * *

 **Augustus Macura, 18**

 **District One Male**

* * *

I've lived the past five years of my life on my own essentially and I've done just fine. I don't think that it's acceptable to change your whole outlook on life just because you have been dealt a few bad hands. If you live your life letting every little thing make you mad, you're going to get to the end of your life and realize you wasted so much time being angry instead of taking in all the good parts of life. That won't be me.

Training does help me take out some of my anger about the situation with my parents. I feel better afterward and more ready than ever to just get them out of the concrete cell that has consumed their lives.

"Are you ready for the reapings?" Kavya asks me, nervously.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I smile, straightening my blonde hair in the mirror and tugging at my blue button down shirt.

"I think this is really stupid, Gus. Please don't do it," she pleads.

"Kay, if you had the chance to change your fate and have more power that you could use for good than bad in a place like this, why wouldn't you take it?" I tell her, giving her the harshest side eye that I can come up with.

"I mean, I guess so. I just wish there was some other way," she says.

"Yeah, well there isn't," I reply, shrugging my shoulders. "Let's go," I smile.

The reaping area is crazy as usual. There are parents hanging on to the young children and there are people running around trying to find the place where they belong.

"I love you, Gus. You are a good person, too good for these games. Come back to me," she says, pulling me into a long, tight hug.

After saying our goodbyes, I find my spot and wait for the show to begin.

After a while, a man wearing a coat made out of iridescent fabric struts out onto the stage.

"Hello there, children!" he booms. "Welcome to the very first reapings of the Sixtieth Annual Hunger Games!"

The light that reflects off of his coat blinds people with every move that he makes, causing people to moan and groan all the way through his speech about why we do this and why it's important. Finally, he finishes and starts to draw names.

Our female tribute for this year's Hunger Games is… Stella Swarovski!

"I volunteer as tribute!" A beautiful blonde girl from the eighteen-year-old section jumps up. A man in the crowd cheers her on as she stands up and slowly walks to the stage.

"Sweet girl, what is your name?" The escort asks her, sticking the microphone in her face.

"Eden Marcellus," she says straight-faced and then taking a step back and crossing her arms.

"A woman of few words," he says, chuckling. "Let's move on!"

"Our male tribute is… Flynn Oliver!"

I take a deep breath and take my chance.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I shout.

I hold my shoulders high and walk towards the stage, shooting smiles at people and waving at others. I want to show that I am a contender and that I volunteered for a reason. When I get to the stage, I shoot a smile at the escort.

"What a charming young man, what is your name, sir?" He asks me.

"My name is Augustus Macura and I am eighteen years old," I say, beaming for the camera.

I walk back to join Eden and she scoots away.

"Give it up for the very first tributes of the Sixtieth Hunger Games!"

* * *

 **Hey Y'all!**

 **Here is the first reaping chapter finally! I am so sorry this is so late but the last month has been very crazy at my house. I have recently found out that my family is moving away and that I will need to get my own apartment next summer, so it's just been hectic dealing with that and school. I am excited to finally pump these reaping chapters out and get started with the games.**

 **I do apologize if this chapter sucks, I am very out of practice haha but the next chapters will be better, promise.**

 **What did you think of these two?**

 **Also, here is the link to the blog. Let me know what you think. :) thelastpetalhg. weebly . com**

 **Happily ever after,**

 **Jenna**


	6. District Two Reapings

_**Trigger warning: Romania has scenes with self-harm in her POV's. If you are sensitive to that please skip over her.**_

* * *

 **Romania Smythe, 18**

 **District Two Female**

They say that every day is a new day to be great. Whoever, they are, have obviously never lived the life of Romania Smythe. I was born great. Ever since I popped out of the woman that I call my mother, I knew I was destined for great things.

"Romania! Baby, it's time for lunch," my mother's voice dances upstairs from the bottom of the spiral staircase.

I pull the turquoise towel off of my hair, letting my dark brown hair fall down past my shoulders and strut to my room, to find something to wear. My eyes dart to a white lacey tank top and a pair of blue jeans with strategically placed holes. I pull on a pair of beige ankle booties and go to my mirror to check out the finished products.

I look good, per the usual.

Scanning myself up and down, my eyes stop at the horizontal scars and the fresh wounds that are on my wrists. I cringe as I walk back to my closet and pull down a light gray cardigan to thrown over my tank top.

"There's my sunshine!" My dad shouts, pulling me into a bear hug. "How did you sleep, princess?" I stiffen my arms at the unwanted gesture.

"Just don't Robert. You know good and well that your incessant hog snoring kept me up all hours of the night. When I tell you I like bags, I mean Coach and Prada not under eye," I tell him, tugging on the sleeve of my cardigan.

"Oh, Romania. I see you woke up in a good mood. Funny and charming as always," my mother says, throwing her head back and causing her brown bob to sway.

"Good morning mother," I smile, kissing her on the cheek before walking to the fridge and cracking open a bottle of sparkling water.

"What do you want for brunch, dear?" she asks.

"I haven't time to eat mom, I'm off to the training academy. Not that I have anything to worry about," I smirk.

Some people are just born with natural talents. Some people sing, some people paint and some people play an instrument. As for me, I fight. Ever since I was a little girl, it has just come naturally to me. It's not a secret that I still give it my all though, I just don't have to try as hard as some of the other wannabes in this district.

"Well be safe," she shouts, as the screen door slams shut.

I am not training today. I am going to settle a matter regarding a rumor that I heard about the head trainer. If there is one thing I can't stand, it is people who are nice to my face but talk mess behind my back. They want to get loud? Well, guess what, I can get loud too.

When I arrive at the arena there are two girls, sitting on the red bleachers that light the left side of the wall.

"Look, there's Romania!" the redhead says, putting her hand in front of her mouth.

"Shh. I do not want to be on the receiving end of one of her roasts, she's brutal," the blonde girl says.

Usually, I would be curious but since I don't even know their names and they both look like the chewed up gum on the bottom of my Bandolinos, I don't bother.

When I walk into the head trainers office, he is sitting at his desk with his feet kicked up. I stand in the doorway, cross my arms and pop out my hip.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Nicholas?" I ask.

"What in the world are you talking about Romania?" he asks, me looking genuinely confused.

"Oh you know, maybe the fact that there is a big hairy rumor going around that you don't think that I am ready to volunteer? I was born for this Nicholas and you know that." I shout.

"Romania, I have no earthly idea what you are talking about. Anyone who has a brain knows that you are a shoe-in to take the cake in the games," he says with a slight look of fear on his face.

"Well then who the hell said it?1" I scream, shoving papers off of his desk and onto the floor.

"R-Romania.. Please don't yell at him.. It was me," The blonde haired girl appears in the doorway. She is holding a salad and shaking so hard that her fork clinks against the glass bowl.

"Excuse me?" I ask, turning around slowly.

"I- I was just trying to make it seem like I had a chance. I didn't mean to tarnish your reputation or Mr. Nicholas's," she says.

I slowly walk up to her and look her up and down.

"Listen here, you blue cheese hoochie. Keep my name out of you un-lip glossed mouth. If you didn't mean to tarnish my reputation, you wouldn't have said it. Since your mouth is always running, I'm sure you'll have no problem tasting this," I say, taking the glass bowl and dumping the blue cheese soaked leaves onto her head.

Laughter erupts from a group of boys who were watching from the bleachers.

"Way to go Romania, don't take that shit!" They shout.

"I didn't ask for you to blow compliments up my ass, you don't have a chance," I tell him, as I strut by.

"Damn!" his friends shot as they push him around.

I refuse to let anyone take away the power that I have worked so hard to achieve. Hopefully, that girl learned her lesson, because there is plenty more where that came from.

When I get home from the training academy, I change into and oversized hoodie and my favorite pair of yoga pants. I go down into the kitchen and place my favorite snacks consisting of Skittles, popcorn and chocolate chip cookies into glass bowls. I stack them into each other and carry them into our home theater. I snuggle into my faux mink fur blanket and push play. The opening credits of "Heathers" displayed across my screen.

As I shove a handful of Skittles into my mouth and watch the group of girl friends talking and laughing in the movie and then look around the empty theater.

The twinge of loneliness returns as I lift my sleeve and run my fingers over the slashes on my wrist.

* * *

 **Imperium Stone, 18**

 **District Two Male**

"Imperium would like a triple chocolate mocha with extra whipped cream," I tell her barista who is standing at the register.

"For the third time sir, we don't have that," she tells me.

"And for the third time Mrs. Barista Lady, Imperium does not accept that answer," I tell her, grinding my teeth.

"Who is Imperium?" She inquires, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Imperium is me, you peasant!" I shout. "Don't you have any idea who you are talking to? Imperium's father owns this coffee shop and he will take your job away faster than you can flap your jowls and tell me you don't have my drink again,"

"Can I please get a manager to the front?" she says into her headpiece as she walks away.

I walk to one of the tables in the corner and sit down with a sigh. How dare she not do everything in her power to make sure that my needs are met. I make a mental note to make her life a living hell when I get back from the Hunger Games.

My father walks out from the back of the shop and sits down at the table with me.

"Imperium, you can't come into my place of employment and behave the way that you just did. That is completely unacceptable. What do you think people are going to think if the head Peacekeeper can't even keep his son in check?" he lectures.

"Dad, to be quite honest, Imperium can't help the fact that nobody can measure up to him. Including his own father, You weren't good enough for the games when you were in your prime and you aren't even good enough to carry the most delicious flavor of icy goodness in your coffee shop.

"Get out, Now," he says.

"Gladly. This is no place for a God," I say slamming the chair I was sitting in against the wall and then running out.

My whole life, I have known that I was a God among men. Being a God comes with its downfalls, but dealing with these mortals on a day to day basis gets old. Imperium has better things to do than deal with people who can't even meet a simple request.

That is why I am going to win the games. Imperium is finally going to be treated the way that a God was made to be treated. I will prove to my father once and all that I am worthy of the title of Victor.

Training is one of the many ways that I can show people that I am superior in every way imaginable. On the floor of the training arena, people treat me like royalty. It's the one place in the world that I can let out steam without people being afraid of the rage that consumes me when I am treated like a mortal peasant. Trust me, that is the last thing that I am.

"Hey, man!" Shouts Cadmus as I walk into the boxing area of the academy.

"What's up?" I ask. "That was a rhetorical question, I don't care," I tell him, slipping on the red gloves that were perched up.

"Back away so you don't get hurt," I tell him.

"Oh come on, give that punching bag a break, let's practice," he pushes, slipping on a pair of gloves on his own.

"Imperium doesn't lose, " I say, pushing him into the center of the ring.

Cadmus should know by now that by asking to fight Imperium stone, he is just confirming his death. He has been my best friend for as long as I can remember and in fact, he is the only mortal who I can stand having a normal length conversation with.

"When are you going to stop acting like a buffoon, dude?" he asks me, rolling his eyes. " You are not a God, You are going to die just like everyone else on the planet."

"Watch what you say. Imperium doesn't take blasphemy lightly," I say, feeling the rage in my body start bubbling over the surface. I pick him up off of the blue mats that litter the floor and lift him over my head. I throw him into the wires that line the side of the ring and watch him in amusement as he bounces around the ring.

"What the hell is wrong with you, asshole?" he asks me when he finally stops bouncing around.

"I warned you, peasant," I tell him, chuckling and taking off my gloves to head home.

As I am gathering my things, Cadmus sneaks up behind me and punches me in the face.

"Why don't you ever flinch?"

"God's don't feel pain, idiot," I reply.

When I was a little boy, I was trying to cook hot dogs on the kitchen stove. I was reaching up to a shelf that was much taller than me and the pan of boiling hot water came crashing down on my skin. I screamed for a few seconds but then I realized that I didn't feel any pain.

That was the first moment that I realized that Imperium stone was different, A God among men.

My whole life from that moment on was spent trying to prove to the people around me that I needed superior treatment. To this day, I haven't been able to convince them of it. I know that winning the Hunger Games without feeling any pain throughout the whole thing, people will finally treat me like the royalty that I am destined to be.

"You really should get that checked out, dude," he says, shaking his head.

"It's called Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis. It's a gift that only God's get. I am getting tired of explaining this," I say, annoyed.

Some people were just not meant to be on earth, We are just made for better things.

* * *

 **Romania Smythe, 18**

 **District Two Female**

Everywhere you look in District Two, everyone has a place where they just simply fit. Girls have their extremely obnoxious groups that prance all over the town doing whatever it is that girls with friends do, and guys have their friends that they occasionally chill with.

If you asked someone on the streets about Romania Smythe, they would probably say something along the lines of "Oh Romania! She is definitely one of the guys with how hard she trains," or "I don't know her, I'm afraid of her."

The only two places that I feel I truly belong are the training academy and the upstairs bathroom. The marble tile and the mauve walls have become my safe haven from the rest of the world. The girl in my reflection is the only person that understands me and unfortunately for me, I am not very fond of her. Don't get me wrong, on the outside, it doesn't get much better than all this, but I can't help but feel like the inside could use some work.

"Romania, we want to have one last dinner together before the reapings. Come downstairs. Now," my dad says over the intercom system that he had put in specifically to make my life a living hell.

"I'll be down in a few minutes, Robert. There is thing called privacy. Research it, learn and apply it to your everyday life," I tell him.

I look back in the mirror and lift my sleeve. The razor blade that I am subconsciously flipping in my left hand is cold against my skin. My eyes are drawn from the faint purple lines on my arms to the shiny silver metal. I grasp the blade in between my two perfectly polished fingers and press down just below my elbow.

"Romania, honey!" My mom knocks gently on the door.

"I'm coming!" I yell.

I fluff my hair in the mirror and straighten my sleeve and walk out.

"You look amazing, darling," my mom croons.

"Duh, Mila. That's old news," I smirk

* * *

 **Imperium Stone, 18**

 **District 2 Male.**

"Hit me again, you weakling!" I beckon Cassius to come closer and hit me with all his strength.

He comes running at me full speed, ducking his head so that when he makes impact it will go directly into my stomach. The weight of his body hitting mine makes me stumble, but there is no pain.

"You are a freak, bro," he says, annoyed.

"I think you meant to say, God," I tell him, matter of factly. "It must suck having nothing special about you whatsoever," I chuckle.

"Please stop calling yourself a God, Imperium." My little sister Eve says. She is standing in the mirror brushing her brown curls and picking apart every little thing that doesn't look perfect. Mortals actually have to worry about these games, but as for me, I've got it in the bag. Besides, I always look perfect.

"Imperium is a God, damn it!," I shout.

Eve rolls her eyes. Our parents are constantly telling me that I need to be more like her. More down to earth, more respectful and quiet and quite frankly more boring. I have never understood why someone would try to fit in though. Imperium doesn't want his life to become a routine. I am destined for so much more than what this District has to offer. I deserve to be up in a thrown, sitting high above all the other peasants, crushing them like ants under my gold-plated boots and smiting them with my golden scepter

"Well I certainly hope that you get a chance to prove that today because I need a break from your fairy tale mindset," she babbles.

"You'll be the first one imprisoned when Imperium wins with that attitude, my dear little Evie," I say, mocking her sweet tone.

Today is the first day of the rest of Imperium's life! I will be able to start my journey to the throne. I would say that I hope it's quick and painless, but with Imperium, it always is.

* * *

 **Alana Bedford, 34**

 **District Two Escort**

"Is this thing on?" I ask, getting the attention of the hundred of children that stand before me. "I'm totally just kidding, I knew that it was on all along, can you believe that?" I ask, laughing at my own joke.

My bright red curls are blowing into my face as I try and speak and sticking to my clear lip gloss. Trying to be camera ready with a breeze is proving to be almost impossible. I make a mental note to track down the camera men and approve the footage before any prints in the papers and magazines are made.

"The Hunger Games sucks," I say, giggling into the microphone. "I'm totally just kidding again! Gotcha!" There are no laughs from the audience, so I decide to move on. "The Hunger Games is a time of love, self-discovery, and patriotism. I am truly honored to be standing here today to bring you your tributes. Without further Adieu, let's get started," I say barring a fake smile. I am still bitter that no one laughed at my jokes.

"Your female tribute for this year's games is… Lenna Chapman!"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A girl from the eighteen-year-old section screams out. Sher runs up to the stage, sending her perfect brown locks blowing in the breeze.

When she get to the stage she turns around and looks out at the crowd. Silence. She puts her hand on her hip and clears her throat. The crowd takes the hint and finally starts cheering for our beautiful volunteer.

"You are a peppy one, aren't you. What is your name, love?" I ask her.

"My name is Romania Smythe," She says confidently and flashes a bright smile for the camera.

"Well Romania, we are very glad to have you, take a step back and let's move along," I say, walking over the male section.

"Your male tribute for this year's game is… Titus Sullivan"

"I volunteer as tribute!" Voice booms from the male eighteen-year-old section.

He runs up the stage, high-fiving people on the way.

"My name is Imperium Stone and I am so excited to represent District Two in this year's Hunger Games," he shouts.

"Oh Good Lord, Kill me now," Romania says from the back of the stage.

"Well let me get these two off the stage before they start fighting early," I say and lead them into the justice building.

 **Hello Loves!**

 **Sorry, it's been a few days. But it's better than a few months, right? Maybe my boyfriends updating speeds are rubbing off on me. Well, here are the District Two reapings! I had a lot of fun with these two. Please review and let me know what you think :)  
**

 **Do you have a favorite so far?**

 **What are your thoughts on these two?**

 **Happily Ever After,**

 **Jenna.**


	7. District Three Reapings

**Cala Trydan, 15**

 **District Three Female**

"Cala! Are you paying attention? Did you hear what I just asked the class?" Mr. Bolt says angrily, tapping a ruler on my desk.

My head falls off of my hand where it was so comfortably cradled and hit's the wooden desk with a thud. Laughter fills the classroom and the heat in my body rises until the color of my cheeks matches my maroon sun dress.

"I didn't think so," he says, shaking his head. "I'm not sure what is going on with you lately Cala Trydan, but it needs to stop now," he says, sulking back to the front of the classroom.

Tears well up in my eyes but I blink over and over again willing them not to fall. I stand up, shove my books into my tan leather backpack and run out of the classroom into the hallway. The hallway is empty, the only thing in sight is the seemingly endless walls of blue lockers so I let the tears start running.

"Hey Cala, Are you okay?" A voice emerges from the shadows of the long hallway. I turn around and look and my heart sinks.

"Of Course, Just my luck," I say, as I look the last person I wanted to see in the eyes, tears still running down my face.

"I'm sorry he embarrassed you like that, but maybe you shouldn't have fallen asleep in class. It's kinda common sense," she says, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder and adjusting her books.

"Just don't, Kinley," I say, wiping the mascara off of under my eyes and turning to walk away.

"Whatever, Cala. You're the one who changed," her voice echoes down the empty hallways.

Seven months ago, my life was so different. I had the three best friends in the entire world. We were inseparable, or at least I thought so. I loved them so much, that I always wanted to be around them. In the movies, that is how close friendships are.

Kinley and Asa used to come over for sleepovers at least once a week. It wasn't enough for me though. Throughout the week, I would get bored and call them, begging them to come over. Seven months ago, I was always eager to have some fun and I guess from the outside looking in, it came across as clingy and strange.

Slowly but surely, I got the feeling that I wasn't welcome in the trio anymore. I never got officially told that I had become the group pariah, but Asa and Kinley stopped coming around and the things that I had only trusted them with started floating around the school. My new nickname was Clingy Cala and there was nothing that I could do about it.

I used to love school, I was involved in most of the clubs and my grades were at the top of my class but now there is no bigger feeling of relief than when I walk out of those doors and into the world.

When I get home, my dad is sitting on the porch of our small and raggedy home. We have much more than some of the other people in the district, but it's not much. My parents have always been great about making us feel like we had everything though. I used to be so grateful for that, but now I just wish that they would stop putting up a front.

"How was your day, love bug?" My dad asks in between the creaks of the rocking chair.

"Don't," Is the only word that I can manage to get out without bursting into hysterics again.

I sprint up the stairs so that I can be sure to avoid another confrontation with one of my family members and slip into my blue lace pajamas and go sit in the chair by my window, drawing my knees up to my chest.

A knock on the door causes me to jump.

"Sweet girl, it's time to eat dinner," my mom says timidly.

"Mom! I am not hungry," I shout.

The whispers from outside my door give away the fact that my dad and my sister have joined my mother outside my door in some elaborate plot to get me to come downstairs.

"Honey, you haven't eaten in days, maybe even weeks. Please just come downstairs," my dad says, fidgeting with the lock on the door.

"Please, Cala. We are worried about you, come out," my sister Avery whispers.

Rage fills my body.

"I am not hungry! Why is that so hard to understand? Are you just incapable of comprehending basic English these days because this is getting ridiculous? Leave me the hell alone!" I say, slamming the door and letting the tears fall freely.

Growing up, my family was as close-knit as a family could be. It was that way for as long as I can remember. These were the days where I thought that there was nothing wrong with the world. I woke up every morning, ready to take on the world. I was energetic and full of life. I looked forward to the magic that I thought every day consisted of. That Cala is gone now though.

After my friends decided to leave me in the dust, my sister Avery was my rock. I had completely lost all of the confidence that I had in myself and in humanity. Doctors call it depression, but I call it being fed up with people's bullshit.

I despise the fact that I lash out at the people that I love most. I hate the girl that I have become. I want the old Cala back, the girl who loved with everything that she had and was so excited to wake up every morning. I want to go looking for her, but I don't even know where to start.

* * *

 **Ichabod Newton, 12**

 **District Three Male**

"Excuse me, mam. Have you always had that mole or is it something that developed later on in your life?" I ask the plump woman standing in front of me.

"Excuse me, little boy?" she turns around with a great scowl on her face and opens her mouth to scold me.

"I am so sorry, Berta," my mom says from behind the counter. "We have always encouraged his curiosity. We never wanted him to stop trying to figure out the answer to things and sometimes he simply doesn't filter," say says, shooting me a look that warns me to be quiet and leave it alone.

"Sorry Miss, I didn't mean any harm," I tell her with a smile.

Growing up in a household with two scientists raising me definitely has its perks. I am extremely privileged to grow up in a home where there is no such thing as a dumb question and learning, no matter the situation, is always encouraged. The only downfall is, that somewhere along the line they forgot to teach me boundaries. My sister Matilda hates the fact that I can't stand an unanswered question, but it's just in my nature.

"I'm going to go meet Isabelle to study for a test, mom! I'll be home later," I tell her.

On the way to the town square, I scan the people I walk by. I study the way that they walk, the involuntary movements that they make and the way that they talk to their friends. I want to know why they do this thing and what makes them tick. My parents wish that I would be more involved in the actual lab coat and goggles-type science, but I can't help that I have an interest for people that runs deeper than any other.

"Hey, Ichabod!" Isabelle runs up to me and wraps her arms around my waist. I normally hate touch, but she has been my best friend for as long as I can remember, so I normally let it slide.

"What's the plan today?" I ask her.

"Well, I figured we could just walk around and catch up," she smiles innocently.

"What is the purpose of that?" I inquire.

"Please Ichabod. No more questions," she says, patting me gently on the back.

Isabelle and I start the trek back to my house when we hear a blood- curdling scream coming from inside the house of one of the Peacekeepers.

"Don't even," Isabelle says, dragging me along by my sleeve.

My eyes are stuck on the house as I walk away. I make a mental note to stop back by later when I am on my own.

The evening is spent researching the way that cells protect the body with Isabelle, but my mind is off wandering in other places. Every time I close my eyes, I hear that scream and see the old peacekeeper sneaking glances at his surroundings before slipping into his home.

The alarm on my phone vibrates under my pillow. I roll over and rub my eyes. The bright screen reads 2:35 am. I shoot up from my dark blue sheets and stumble around my room until I find a pair of black jeans and a black sweater to match. I grab the black duffel bag that I have so carefully packed with things that will be necessary to my stake out and sneak out the window, stealing one last glance at the safe and secure red brick walls of my home.

When I arrive at the peacekeepers' house, the lights are still on. I find a secluded spot in the bushes and lay out my supplies. Binoculars, a notebook and a pen, and snacks. The silhouettes of random objects that litter his home are the only thing that I can see, so I get comfortable and just wait.

I am starting to drift off when a loud crash causes every nerve ending in my body to come to attention.

"You are not allowed to leave me!" The large silhouette shouts as it dances around the living room.

"Untie me, please!" A smaller and more feminine silhouette cries. I can't make out much, but I can tell that her hands are tied behind her back and her ankles have a chain around them that is connected to something deeper in the house.

I pick up my notepad and pen, move as close to the window as possible and start scribbling down the dialogue that is occurring between the two.

"You can't keep my here against my will, Stephen. I want to leave!" she sobs.

"You aren't going anywhere," he says, lifting her up to his level by the collar of her dress and then throwing her to the ground.

"Please don't hurt me!" she screams. The silhouette of the man lifts it's arm and brings it down to collide with the woman's jaw bone.

Without thinking, I let out a loud gasp.

"Who the hell is out there?" an angry voice booms. The front door flies open and the man who I have been watching for the past two hours emerges. I try to run but my shoelace gets entangled with the branches and I come crashing down.

"There is no fucking privacy in this damn District," He whispers through clenched teeth. He picks me up by the back of my shirt and covers my mouth with this hand.

The last phrase that crosses my mind before everything goes black is "curiosity kills the cat." For once in my life, I hope that the facts are wrong.

* * *

 **Cala Trydan, 15**

 **District Three Female**

I am still in my chair by the window when the sun rises. If it weren't for the prominent purple bags under my eyes, you would think that my sleeping schedule was just as normal as the next girls, but they prove that I haven't slept in days,

My mom tells me that not eating and not sleeping is going to take a toll on my body eventually, but I don't care at this point. It's not like my future is bright anyways.

"I brought you waffles and raspberries," my sister says as she enters the room. I guess she has given up on knocking.

"Did we win the lottery or something?" I ask, rolling my eyes.

"No, Cala. I just thought you needed something to cheer you up so I spent my extra earnings on breakfast supplies."

"I'm not hungry," I say, scooting the plate away.

"Cala, eat. I'm not playing," she says. Her eyes are big and filling with tears. "You used to be so happy, Cala. I miss you. You were my best friend."

"I miss me too," I say, cutting off a chunk of waffle and hesitantly putting it in my mouth.

"You can't let those mean girls do this to you. You let them steal your confidence and it sent you into a downward spiral," She says.

"I'm hated. That would send anyone into a so-called spiral," I say.

I hate the fact that this is my life. I feel dramatic, I feel like people look at me and think that I am searching for attention and I feel like a lousy person for not being in control of my own emotions. That's the thing about depression though, it's a beast and it can't just be conquered in the blink of an eye. It's always there, lurking in the back of your mind. It sits there waiting for a moment where you finally feel happy and then it strikes.

"You are so loved, Cala. Those girls are just mean and they aren't going to get far in life with that mindset. You can't let people steal your joy so easily," she says with a genuine smile. "Let's get ready for the reapings and then we can come home and do something that will make you happy.

For the first time in awhile, I feel a sense of happiness. I feel like things might be okay but that feeling leaves just as soon as it comes. The beast found me in my moment of happiness and struck.

"Get out, Avery. I'm going alone," I say, the rage returning to my body as I slam the door.

* * *

 **Ichabod Newton, 12**

 **District Three Male.**

"Yes… but why do you feel the desperate need to keep her here? Are you afraid that you are unloveable or do you just need to be in control?" I ask the man that is keeping me captive in his poorly decorated living room.

"Shut the hell up right now," he says.

"You're pacing. I wonder if that's involuntary or if you are doing it to divert my attention from the questions at hand," I say, thinking out loud.

"I am serious, you moron. Shut your mouth right now while I figure out what to do with you," he says, looking frantic.

"I think that you love her but you don't know how to show it because you are insecure in your masculinity," I tell him. "It's nothing to be ashamed of but the way you are handling it is quite alarming."

There is nothing in the whole word that bothers me more than an unanswered question. Once the question pops into my mind, I can't rest until it is answered. It often results in sleepless nights and tons of research but in rare occasions like these, it takes hands on experience.

"I am about to take that brain out of your damn head," he shouts.

"What happened that made you so rage filled," I ask, studying him as I stroke my nonexistent beard.

"I just threatened you," he says, puffing his chest and trying to look tough.

"I'm well aware," I tell him. "I'm also aware of the fact that while you were so busy pacing around the living room brainstorming ways to keep me quiet that your wife broke free about thirty minutes ago and ran out the back door," I tell him with a smirk.

His face turns bright red and he runs down the hallway just as other peacekeepers and news crews run into the house. My parents follow behind and wrap me up in their arms.

"What the heck were you thinking, Ichabod?" My mom asks me, tears running down her face.

"I wanted to know what was going on, I was curious," I say, with an innocent grin.

"Oh, sweetie," she says, chuckling.

"We are here with Ichabod Newton of District Three. He was kidnapped while trying to save Stacey Wires from her crazy husband Wires. Ichabod, how would you describe this monster of a man?" A news anchor asks, shoving her microphone in my face.

"I don't think he is a monster at all. I believe that all humans are kind, they just have different ticks and quirks that need to be worked out. With a little research and behavioral studies, I think he will once again be a productive member of society," I say.

"Well you are quite odd and wise for a twelve-year-old," she says, laughing. "The reapings are about to start, so run along, kiddo,"

As I walk away and head to the reapings, my head fills with one hundred more questions. I can't wait for the reapings to be over so that I can continue my adventures. The world is full of unanswered questions, just waiting for curiosity to get the best of people.

* * *

 **Kaitlyn Keys, 28**

 **District Three Escort**

"It sure is a beautiful day here in District Three! The birds are chirping, the sun is shining and it simply a beautiful day to be alive!," I shout with a big grin.

My blonde hair is curled into perfect ringlets and my sunflower headband matched perfectly with my bright yellow dress. I come alive when the cameras are on me and I can't wait to go home and binge eat a whole bag of chips and rewatch myself on tv over and over again.

"I am so excited to meet the two little beams of light that are going to hopefully bring some respect and joy back to your district! Let's not waste any time," I skip over to the large glass bowl that contains the white slips of paper and draw out a name.

"Your female contender is… Cala Trydan!"

The crowd moves to the left and right leaving a girl from the fifteen-year-old section standing alone. She looks like she can't breathe. She clenches her fists and stiffly walks towards the stage with a stone cold expression on her face. When she gets to the stage, I notice that her eyes are filled with tears.

"How do you feel, lovely?" I beam, pointing the microphone in her direction.

She doesn't reply, she just stands there.

"This is a good thing baby girl!" I shout. "Give it up for Cala everyone!" I say as the crowd claps.

"Well, let's see who Cala will be standing beside on this fun journey!" I say quickly drawing a name out of the male's bowl.

"Your male tribute is… Ichabod Newton!"

A small boy standing in the front looks startled. He looks around the crowd until he finds a girl who looks just like him and gives her an encouraging smile. He walks up to the stage and stands in front of me with wrinkles in his forehead.

"Would you like to say something, sweetie?" I ask him.

"What would you say is the best Strategy? Do you think that I should lay low or go guns blazing? Should I make friends or go solo?" He asks me, wide-eyed.

"Oh honey, we will go over that later," I say with a nervous giggle.

I lead them off stage and shake my head.

 **Hi loves!**

 **Here are the District Three reapings. There two challenged me more than I thought they would so I'm sorry if this chapter sucks.**

 **I am about to start online classes but my updates should stay frequent. I have a sudden burst of motivation for this story and I am really anxious to get in the arena because I have so many ideas. Expect another update soon!**

 **Who did you like better?**

 **Thoughts on these two?**

 **P.S My boyfriend informed me that song lyrics are not allowed so I went through and removed all of them and I will be doing without for the rest of the story. I loved them but I don't wanna get in trouble, ya feel?**

 **Happily Ever After,**

 **Jenna**


	8. District Four Reapings

**TRIGGER WARNING: Nerissa has mentions of sexual assault and rape in her POV's. It's important to her story but PLEASE skip over her POv's if that is something that you are sensitive to.**

 **Nerissa Lune Bay, 18**

 **District Four Female**

Trees are beautiful. They are big and tall and even though they have cracks in them, they remain strong, barely moving in the wind.

That is the kind of strong that I admire to be. That is the kind of strong, that I am.

"Hey Nerissa, it's good weather we're having today, isn't it?" the waitress asks me, setting down my water and orange juice in front of me. "What can I get you today, darling?" she asks, pulling a pen from behind her ear and releasing a storm of auburn hair.

"Hmm. Let's do eggs. Sunny side up. Since you know, the weather is so good," I say, jokingly sticking out my tongue.

"We've missed your jokes around here, babycakes. We sure are glad to see you out and about again," she says as she goes to the register to put my order in.

I chose the spot at the local restaurant called Seabrook that faces the water. I like watching the trees blow in the wind. They sway something fierce, but they never collapse and that amazes me.

"Hey, Nerissa!" A hand caresses my back and I jump at the physical touch. He sits down at the table with me and only then do I realize it's Sheldon Clay. He is the biggest player in the district and quite honestly the last person that I wanted to see this morning.

It's time for some fun.

"You look beautiful today, Nerissa," he says, tucking his blonde hair behind his ear and biting his lower lip.

"Oh thank you so much, I like really try because like, beauty is important, you know?" I say, adding extra likes and twirling my long dark hair around my finger for extra ditz effect.

"After breakfast would you be interested in coming back to my place to watch movies and play some games?" he asks, looking me up and down.

What a moron.

"Sure! We can play Uno or Monopoly or something," I say, mustering up the most obnoxious giggle that I can.

"I mean, I had different games in mind," he says.

"Oh, like checkers?" I ask, internally cringing at how dumb I sound right now.

I can see that he is getting frustrated, but it just makes this way more enjoyable for me.

"It's a good thing you are pretty, Nerissa," he says, laughing at his own lame joke.

I'm fed up with boys thinking that they can trick girls into being intimate with them. Boys walk around this dang district like just because they have a penis that they can outsmart everyone. I realized at a young age that playing dumb was the best way to get someone's clear intentions out of them without being too blunt. I have never been proven wrong, and with each prick that I come across, my trust issues rise.

"Listen here. I am not going back to your apartment and I am not playing you kinky little games or whatever it is that you had planned for this afternoon. So you might as well just move along," I tell him, crossing my arms defensively.

"What the hell just happened?" He asks, looking as lost as hope for humanity

.

"Appearing smart makes you easy prey and I am Not Prey," I say, putting my water glass down a little harder than intended.

Sheldon Clay gets up and scurries out just as fast as he came in.

That is the problem with the world. Life is a beautiful place meant for enjoyment. There are so many amazing things out there that are just beckoning at you to live. However, then you get to the inhabitants of the world and life seems a lot less fun. People are awful, terrible creatures and they rarely have good intentions. Before the incident, I trusted people way too easily. I guess it takes something as terrible as that to happen to a person before they realize that the fewer people that you trust, the better. Now, I trust my grandfather and that's it.

My grandfather owns five of the most successful fishing boats in the district, making him well known and very well off. When things aren't going my way or when I really miss Troy, I board one of the fishing boats and just float.

My brother Troy was my best friend. When I was ten years old though, the cruel and condescending man that I used to call my father made him volunteer for the Hunger Games. He thought that when Troy emerged victoriously, that he would no longer just be known as "The Son of the famous Marlin Bay." Unfortunately for him, Troy never made it back out. On the fourth day, his throat was slit while he was sleeping.

I never forgave my dad for that. In fact, the whole incident which changed my outlook on life never would have happened if he hadn't sent my brother into the games. I would never have been sitting in those woods missing him if he was there with me and my innocence would never have been stolen from me.

The whole incident would have been avoided had my brother not died in the hunger games.

The way I see it, shit happens in life. We as people have a choice on how we let that affect us. I could choose to let the incident make me a miserable person, but I won't let it have that much power over me. It has changed my life and made me not trust people at all, but it won't take my happiness.

* * *

 **Chase Anderson, 18.**

 **District Four Male.**

"Chase, I need you to cover for me at the restaurant today," my mom shouts inside from the long white porch that lines out beach house.

"I was supposed to help dad with the fishing company today. I think we were going to go out on one of Marlin Bay's fishing boats," I say.

"Well, I'm sorry sweetie, but I really need help today. It's the busiest day of the season," she says, coming inside the big French doors and planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

"Okay, I'll be there," I say shooting her a smile.

That is my exciting life in District four. My whole life consists of deciding which family business that I want to inherit when my parents finally decide to retire. My parents have worked so hard for everything that we have and as the only child, it's ultimately up to me to decide which company to carry on.

If I inherit the fishing company, I will get to spend my days out on the open water doing something that I love. There is nothing like being out in the middle of the ocean with nothing surrounding you. It's like the world has no edges and for at least a moment in time, everything else disappears. It's just you, the waves and the sun. That sounds like a life that I would love to live.

On the other hand, if I inherit the restaurant. I will keep the sense of community alive in the district. Seabrook has been a place where people meet up, celebrate events and come together for as long as I can remember. People in the district love the home cooked seafood and the sense of home that it gives off and there is nothing that I love more than my district.

"I'm going to go meet up with Ray before my shift, Mom," I call out to her.

The walk to the beach is short considering that I live in a beach house, but as soon as my bare feet hit the sand, I become a completely different person. Decisions don't matter and the only thing on my mind is what adventure awaits.

"Hey, babe!" Ray shouts, pulling her long blonde hair up into a ponytail and shimmying out of her shorts, revealing a neon green bikini.

"Hey there beautiful," I tell her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss.

"Come on, let's dive in," she says with an enticing smile.

I follow her into the blue water and take a deep breath before submerging my entire body under the water. Being underwater is one of my favorite feelings. The water surrounds you and everything is silent. The only choice you have to make is when to go back up for air. When I finally decide to emerge from the water, Ray is staring at me with her big green eyes.

"You were under there for awhile, love. What is bothering you?" she asks.

I pull her weightless body closer to mine. The water ripples behind her.

"Ah. I'm not sure. There are so many decisions to make about my future. I'm only eighteen but my parents expect me to make a decision now."

"Well, why don't you choose to do something for you for once," she smiles, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"Yeah, like what?" I ask, treading water and enjoying the feeling of being weightless.

"If you are having to choose between your dad's company and your mom's business, maybe you should choose neither and do something for yourself for once. You're too loyal to the people you love. It's admirable baby but it's time to do something that makes you happy," she says, moving my wet hair out of my face and placing a kiss on my forehead.

"You know what, Ray, you might be onto something," I tell her.

My whole life I have made sure that everyone around me was happy. I was so occupied with taking care of the people of District four and my parents and friends that I forgot to take care of myself.

"You should like volunteer for the hunger games or something. You've trained in the academy and stuff haven't you?" She jokes, tossing her head back laughing.

"Ray, that might not be a bad idea," I say, a feeling of excitement bubbling up in my gut.

"Wait. Absolutely not, babe. I was totally kidding," she says.

"Ray, I love my district more than anything and I've been training for years. I always thought the training was useless but If I make this choice, I could bring honor and respect to this district and both of my parent's companies could stay above water."

"I can't believe that you are actually considering this, it was a joke, Chase," Tears start flowing from her eyes and her voice shakes as she speaks.

"I'm sorry, Ray. I've got to go," I say. I kiss her one more time before I start swimming towards the shore.

"Babe! Please don't," she pleads.

I can't listen to her pleas because then I will change my mind. After my shift tonight, I am going to inform my parents that for once in my life I am going to make a choice for myself. They aren't going to be happy and I can hear them yelling now, but you only have one life to live.

I have so much love for my district and I know that If I win the hunger games not only will I be doing something for me but I would be able to do amazing things for the people of District Four.

I push these thoughts aside for a few hours and grab my apron to go work at Seabrook.

* * *

 **Nerissa Lune Bay, 17**

 **District Four Female**

" _No, stop. Get off of me. Please leave me alone!"_

" _Shut up and don't move, or else,"_

" _Please stop, I don't want to. Please let me go home! I'm sorry!"_

" _I said to stop talking!"_

The sounds of my own screams for help cause me to jolt up in my bed. My Lavender satin sheets are soaked with sweat and I can't breathe. After a few moments of trying to catch my breath, my grandfather bursts into the room.

"Nerissa! Are you okay?" My grandfather has a panicked look on his face as he sits down on the edge of my bed.

"It was just another nightmare, grandpa," I tell him. I want to ease his nerves because I don't want him to pry.

"Get your blankets, kiddo. We will have a camp-out in the living room just like old times," he says, rubbing my back and reaching for the glass of water that I keep on my bedside table.

Normally I would say that I was way too old to be having slumber parties with my grandfather, but if it will keep him from asking what my nightmares are about, I'm all in. I have never had the courage to tell anyone about the incident in the woods when I was twelve years old. I can't tell anyone, especially him.

It had been two years after the death of my brother. There was a clearing in the woods that we used to play in when we were younger that I had been avoiding going to because it was so hard for me to be there without him. On that day though, I missed him so much. I decided to pack up a backpack and go to the clearing in the woods to talk to him.

I was sitting there with my eyes closed, just reliving all of my favorite memories when something hard struck my head. Everything went black.

When I regained my consciousness, I was in a pool of blood with my pants off. I looked at my surroundings being careful not to make any noise in case the man who assaulted me was nearby. I slowly turned onto my left side and gasped. There was a boy who was no older than ten years old with his throat slit. I guess I wasn't my assailants only victim that night.

Anyway, the sound of my gasping must have alerted the masked man that I was awake because he ran over to me and grasped my throat as hard as he could.

" _If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you and your entire family,"_ he said. _"And thanks to you famous grandpa, I will know exactly where to find you,"_ he said.

I was terrified, but I nodded my head and he let me go.

I knew his voice. I had heard it all over tv and that is the exact reason that I can't tell anyone. Telling people that I was assaulted by the Mayor's son could have severe consequences for my grandfather and his fishing company.

I keep it all in and that's why the nightmares are there. It's caused me anxiety, trust issues and it's taken an extreme toll on my health, but I care about my family too much.

I choose to be like a tree. Life will bend me and break me and even though I sway and some of my branches are cracked, my roots are deep and I will snap back and stand tall. Every day I start to get a little bit better. It's going to take a while, but I am starting to be excited and happy about my life again and I know that is exactly what Troy would have wanted for me.

"Okay Grandpa, let's go," I say with a smile.

* * *

 **Chase Anderson, 18**

 **District Four Male**

"What the hell do you mean you are volunteering for the damn Hunger Games?" My dad shouts.

The sun is setting at the beach house. It's usually my favorite time of the day, but chaos has ensued on this evening.

"Sweetie, you have responsibilities here. You need to choose what you want to do with your future and that is not something that you should be taking lightly," my mother scolds.

"You have raised me in the best way possible guys and I am so grateful for that. You taught me how important it is to make the best choice for myself. This is the best choice for me," I tell them, standing my ground.

"Sweetie, we put you in the training academy so that you could be prepared just in case, we didn't want you to think that it was an excuse to volunteer and ruin everything that we have worked so hard to give you," my mom says.

"I am sorry. I have lived my whole life on the safe side, doing everything that you asked me to do but it's time that I make this choice for me and with the utmost respect, I am not really asking for your permission," I shout.

Before they can object any further, I run out of the French doors and out onto the sand. I don't stop running until my body physically can't anyone. My knees get weak and I collapse into the sand.

"Is this just where you sleep now? I get that you are trying to be more adventurous baby, but damn," Ray's voice surprises me.

"Are you stalking me now?" I joke, getting up to embrace her.

"Your parents sent me after you to make sure that you were okay," she confesses. "So you're really doing this, huh?"

"I have to. I know I don't owe it to anyone, Ray. I owe it to myself. I think that I have a good shot at winning and I really believe that I can bring it home," I tell her, playing with her fingers.

"I'm going to miss you." Tears fill her eyes and she let's go of my hand. "What if you don't make it out, chase?"

"Well then, it will be an awfully big adventure," I say, scooting closer to her. "Plus, then you will get to brag about how badass your fearless boyfriend was." I wipe her tears away and kiss her passionately.

"Make it back to me, big shot she says," smiling in between kisses.

 _The Next morning -_

My parents still aren't talking to me. The don't think that I am ready for this, but I think that I was born for this.

I straighten my black button down shirt in the mirror and practice my poses. My shorts are an uncomfortable length but Ray said that they look the best. With one last look in the mirror and a deep breath, I head for the reapings.

"Is everyone in the right place? My name is Ursula Green and I am so honored to take the dive and be your District Four Escort!"

The woman standing on the stage has bright blue hair with purple tips and a dress that is made to look like scales. She has netting in her hair and seashell earrings on. Talk about trying too hard.

"Well, Let's make a splash and dive right in! Ocean puns, Am I right?" She says, chuckling. She lifts up her long dress and wobbles over to the side of the stage where the female names are contained.

"Your female tribute is… Nerissa Lune Bay!"

An older man lets out wails of despair from the crowd of people that are watching. I turn around and look at him. His face is terrified, his hands are shaking and he is doing everything in his power to fight the Peacekeepers off. He has no luck though. I let my gaze wander to the other side of the roped off area. The crowd of girls has separated leaving only one girl with a hardened expression on her face standing there. She slowly walks up to the stage and takes her place behind the escort, refusing to speak.

"Well aren't you just a tough shell to crack?" She cackles. "We've got bigger fish to fry, let's move on,"

"Your male tribute for this year's games is… Benny Boats."

I take a deep breath and raise my hand.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I shout.

The crowd gasps but there is a small sigh of relief from the boy standing next to me.

I run up to the stage. Let the adventure begin.

* * *

 **Hi y'all! :)**

 **Here are the District Four reapings. I hope that you liked them! Be sure to review and let me know your thoughts.**

 **I should have the District Five reapings up tomorrow because I am off work. :)**

 **Who is your favorite so far?**

 **Happily Ever After**

 **Jenna**

 **PS. My boyfriend just posted to prologue for his 12th SYOT called Crash Landing. Y'all should go submit someone super good to him. :)**


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